Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2) (36 page)

T
he new day
dawned bright with only a few clouds in the distant horizon, but it was of no concern to those waiting in Warkworth’s chapel. Today was a day of celebration, for Gavin and Brianna would at last become man and wife.

Standing in the shadows at the back of the chamber, Katherine gazed on her friend as Brie fidgeted with the golden belt so it was just right underneath her bosom. The gown really was a lovely blue that complimented her friend’s olive skin and black hair. Her tresses had grown in the past three or so months since they had traveled to the twelfth century, and Brianna had somehow managed to upsweep even the shorter strands into a coiffeur that was pleasing to the eye. Brie truly did have a talent for anything requiring finesse; from hair styling, to sewing finery, to fending for herself, and Katherine would miss her once she left this evening to go to her new home. By day’s end, Katherine would now have only herself to depend on, with the exception of her husband. The thought left her feeling somewhat bereft, considering she should be happy for her friend.

“Will I do?” Brianna asked with a shaky voice. She was obviously nervous, although Katherine was not sure why. Brie would be marrying her own glorious knight this day, her reason for remaining in the past.

“You look stunning, Brie,” Katherine replied with a smile. “No bride has ever looked lovelier.”

“I don’t know about that, Katie,” Brie giggled. “If I recall, you looked pretty surreal on your own wedding day.”

Katherine took her friend’s hand and held it for several moments while silence surrounded them. She tried to keep the tears from her eyes, but somehow they managed to spill over all the same. Brie wiped them away.

“Don’t cry, sissy. It’s not like we’re never going to see one another again. I’m a day’s ride inland, maybe less, and Gavin has promised, if nothing else, we can return for the birth of your baby.”

Katherine gave a weak grin. “I’m just over emotional of late and can’t seem to keep anything hidden anymore.”

“I can’t blame you, Katie, but please don’t let her get the best of you, my dear. Remember, he chose you to make his wife, not her, and he loves you.”

Katherine shook off her melancholy feeling and smiled brightly for her friend. “I just want you to be happy, Brie. I’m going to miss having you close.” They wrapped their arms around one another before Katherine gave a merry laugh. “Come on, sis. You’ve waited long enough. Let’s get you married!”

Katherine made her way to her husband’s side, giving him a welcoming smile.

“All is well, Kat?” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes. We were just taking a couple of minutes to ourselves, since it will be some time before the opportunity presents itself again.”

Before Riorden could continue their conversation, the priest began to say mass. Katherine’s eyes became sleepy as she tried to stay awake, listening to the man’s monotone voice. At least an hour or more later, Brianna and Gavin were pronounced man and wife, and they were signing their marriage contract. Her sister of her heart gazed up after she had proudly written her name with the quill that had been provided. Katherine had never seen Brianna look more radiant. This poignant moment they shared made her miss Juliana and Emily even more, especially knowing she and Brie had missed out on their weddings, as well.

They made their way to the Great Hall where a wedding feast was already being laid out. Riorden had found a few minstrels in the village, who even now were tuning their instruments to provide the afternoon’s entertainment.

Katherine had just made a few last minutes suggestions to Mabel when she noticed Marguerite heading down a set of stairs off the kitchen area. Although she knew the cellars were below, Katherine had never wandered down into the storehouse of Warkworth’s keep. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she wondered what her nemesis was up to, and she slowly made to follow her down the set of narrow stairs.

Darker than she thought it would be, the chamber was musky, reminding her of the smell of an old basement that had flooded once or twice and had remained wet with mold. She crinkled her nose and continued onward. Then she came to a tunnel of sorts, with only a couple of torches to light the way. If she hadn’t felt on edge with her decision to follow Marguerite before, she certainly did now.

She remembered when she had watched a scary movie in her youth and for months afterwards, she had been terrified of the dark. She shivered, hearing the movie theme music play inside her head now. Even after all this time, that terrifying tune still gave her the willies and bothered her enough to make her swallow hard. What the hell she was doing? What was she leading herself into? She felt as though something was going to jump out at her, but even though she just knew it was going to happen, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from taking another step forward when she should be turning around and going back the way she came to safety. Emily would say the feeling was like waiting for the zombie apocalypse to begin, overwhelming fear, but intense curiosity at the same time. This stupid situation seemed no different, so she continued into the darkness, wondering what Marguerite was up to.

She passed several rooms filled with food stuff, barrels of ale and wine, and all other manner of household goods. When she heard footsteps heading toward her, she quickly hid behind one of the barrels and peeked around the edge carefully to see what was going on. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she felt like anyone and everyone could hear it, loud enough to alert Marguerite if she was near.

Katherine saw Marguerite clutching a bottle of something. She supposed there was nothing strange about that. The woman might merely want something to quench her thirst in her room. But what was strange, is that she would go and fetch it herself. If she had learned anything about Marguerite, it was that the woman liked to be waited on, hand and foot. Even the servants whispered how demanding she had become, now that Riorden had returned to dwell at the estate. Marguerite had more servants at her beck and call than she had had before, and the woman thrived on the attention and power she wielded whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Marguerite left, her footsteps quickly fading until Katherine felt it was safe to follow. Not until she was back within the Great Hall did she feel she could let out a deep breath of relief. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. Her apprehension quickly returned when she saw Marguerite linger at the table on the raised dais before she made her way up the stairs, Katherine assumed, to her room.

Riorden came to her side, and she shakily took his arm as he led her to the feast that was now ready. She saw her wine had already been poured into a chalice set at her place. Without thinking of what she had just witnessed, she reached for the cup in order to quench her thirst and calm her shattered nerves.

“Nay, Katherine!” She heard Lord Everard’s voice come into her head.

Before her hand even touched the stem, she saw the goblet being tipped over and watched in fascination as the contents spilled onto the white linen, like a slow moving river of blood. Only God above knew for sure what a ghost had just saved her from.

Riorden’s gaze had drifted to her, but she only mumbled an apology over her clumsiness. But the damage was done to her peace of mind. It was hard to try to enjoy the remainder of the celebration, although it was not for lack of trying on Katherine’s part. Riorden took her onto the floor so they could dance to some of the slower tunes that would not overly exert her. He had been most attentive the entire night, even when the men began drinking something heavier than wine and ale.

Before too long, Gavin and Brianna began saying their farewells, much to Katherine’s dismay. A feeling of sudden panic began to consume her, knowing that her only lifeline to her past life was leaving her. Not until Brianna was about to depart to start her own happily-ever-after story did Katherine realize how much she had been relying on her friend for moral support.

Standing in the outer baily with her sister of her heart held close in her arms, Katherine gave the younger girl one last hug before she stepped back and held her at arm’s length. Reaching up, she cupped Brianna’s face and gave her a weak smile. “Be happy, Brie,” she whispered softly, trying to hold up the happy façade she had plastered on her face, and trying her best not to crumble.

“I’ll see you again soon.” Brie assured her.

Katherine could only give her a brief nod before Gavin came and assisted Brianna onto her horse. She had an uncanny premonition that it would be a long time before she saw her friend again. Despair settled around her heart like the darkest demon consuming the human soul. Watching their party leave Warkworth, she kept her gaze focused on the barbican gate, even after the portcullis began to lower, watching her dearest friend ride away with her new husband.

She waved off Riorden’s concern and felt his hand giving her a squeeze. It was almost as if he silently told her everything would be all right. Katherine knew better. Needing to be alone, she excused herself and went up onto one of the battlement walls. It didn’t take long before she saw the dust settle back into place, leaving no trace that Brianna had ever been there.

Not wanting to fight the feeling as exhaustion at last took its toll on her, she decided to lie down and rest. At least within her own chamber walls, she could feel safe and secure. She needed the comfort of finding some sort of solace that had evaded her during the daylight hours. Yet, she would only find her worst nightmare that would return to haunt her this eve. For in her sleep, Katherine shivered with dread as the mists of Time came and took back one of its own...

M
arguerite smirked
as
she observed Katherine’s absence from the celebration. She was glad for it ’til she overheard one of the ladies who attended Katherine mention the current Countess of Warkworth was with child.
With child!
Was it just dumb, blind luck that continued to mar her miserable life? Wasn’t it enough that her dead husband tormented her whenever she tried to live some kind of normal existence here at Warkworth? When would something go her way for a change?

Mayhap that time was now, she mused with a smile, noticing how the revelers continued to take cup in hand and be merry. That they did so was not out of the ordinary, since a wedding celebration could go on ’til the early hours of the morn. What made Marguerite extremely pleased was that Riorden had not retired to join his wife.

Seizing the opportunity that presented itself so nicely, Marguerite went to a nearby table, arranged several cups on a tray and poured draughts of whiskey into each of them. Ensuring that she was unobserved, she reached for the vial, pulled out the stopper, and watched as one small drop dripped into one of the cups.

She bit her lip in indecision if this would be enough, for it seemed like such a paltry amount to have the effect she desired. She was about to pour another into the cup she would offer to Riorden when Warin’s words came back to her. Better too little than for Riorden to end up like his father. She would not make the same mistake twice.

Taking the tray in hand, she balanced it carefully with a feeling she had tried this once afore and failed. But she was determined more than ever that the time was right, so she pressed forward towards the large hearth where Riorden stood with several of his guardsmen.

“Something to drink, good sirs?” she murmured with a welcoming smile.

She rotated the tray when eager hands reached for the cups ’til only one remained. She attempted to not appear anxious as Riorden took the intended cup in hand.

“Playing servant, Marguerite?” he jeered with a smothered laugh. “I would think this was beneath you.”

She gave a careless shrug, as if his words did not hurt her feelings. “I was just trying to help.”

Marguerite left the men standing there ’til one of the guards, Ulrick she thought his name was, raised his goblet in a toast to the bride and groom. From the dim corner, she stood in the shadows watching as, along with the rest of his men, Riorden downed the contents of his cup. She almost clapped her hands in glee but subdued the impulse. Now, all she had to do was wait...

R
iorden passed
his hand through his hair, even as he tried to focus on the words Nathaniel and Aiden were discussing. He had not thought he had drunk so much that ’twould cause him to become this inebriated, but he must have been wrong. He needed to make his way to his chamber afore he passed out. If he were to do so in front of his men, he would never hear the end of it.

“I will retire,” he said to his men. He thought they made a joke about him not being able to handle his whiskey, but any thought of returning their pun was ignored as he made his way to the stairs.

His vision began to blur and he stumbled whilst he made his way to his chamber. He felt a hand of support come to wrap around his waist to assist him. Looking down, he saw Marguerite looking at him with soft, doe-like eyes.

“Are you unwell, Riorden?” she whispered gently. “Here, let me help you to your chamber.”

He mumbled some kind of response although his tongue and mouth were dry. His skin felt as if ’twas on fire, and the desire to lie down underneath the cool coverings of his bed was the only thought he had on his mind. His head began to spin as he felt the edge of the bed against the back of his legs.

“Let me help you with your boots, Riorden,” came the silky tone of the woman, who gave him a subtle nudge so he all but fell on the bed. He rubbed his eyes when he gazed down at her hair and saw the black tresses transform into the tawny colored locks of his wife.

“Katherine, my love, come to bed with me,” Riorden slurred, barely noticing her shoulders flinch as she took off one boot and then the other.

“’Tis exactly what I had in mind, my dear husband.”

Her laughter rang sweetly in his ears, even though something seemed out of place that he could not grasp. Pulling his tunic over his head, he felt her helping him with his hose as he at last lay down on the softness of the feather mattress. Moments later, he felt the silky flesh of his naked wife come to lie atop him as he wrapped his arms around the woman, bringing her full length against his warm body.

“Love me, Riorden.”

“I do, Katherine, for all time will I love only you,” he murmured against her neck.

He heard her laughter again and was unsure what there was to jest about at a time when he was about to make love to her. Any other thoughts he may have had left him abruptly as he felt his eyes begin to roll back into his head. The last thing he remembered with any clarity was hearing a snarl of outrage from the woman at his side.

M
arguerite just could not believe
what she was seeing.
Asleep!
How the bloody hell could he pass out on her just as she was finally about to get everything she wanted? A soft snore passed his lips as he rolled onto his side, followed by him murmuring his wife’s name.
Damn Katherine’s soul to hell!
How she hated that atrocious woman!

Angrily, she rose from the bed only to stand there with her hands on her hips, staring at the man who had all but consumed her every waking thought. Perchance, she still might salvage something of the situation that she had so carefully arranged.

She began picking up their clothes and neatly folded them. Taking a small sip of wine, she gazed around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. Aye, it appeared as if everything was normal for a couple living together as man and wife. Smiling in satisfaction, she climbed back into bed and snuggled against Riorden’s back. She would ensure that matters between them were set aright come the morn. No doubt, with the rising sun, Riorden would thank her for her cleaver scheming just so they could at last be together.